


Relative to Time

by Mystic_Harley



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Rape, One Shot, Snapshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 19:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_Harley/pseuds/Mystic_Harley
Summary: Brief snapshots of the relationship between The Dolorosa and The Handmaid





	Relative to Time

When the Dolorosa first met her, she hadn’t put much thought into it. She had just turned her own life upside down and rescued an infant that wasn’t even supposed to be alive. She could picture the rippling of change across the usually calm waters of society to this day, hear the ringing peal of bells as she made her escape with the newborn clenched tightly in one arm, a crude saw in the other to protect her from whatever dangers lay ahead.   
  
She didn’t expect to get far, if she were to be honest. Dolorosa just knew that she  _ had _ to save this child no matter what the cost, her conscious couldn’t take less. Her skin seemed almost translucent in the moonlight as she saw a figure, sitting on the rocks. As she approached, the eye-searing green became more abundant, her horns curled on themselves and two black eyes that, if one looked closely, had traces of red in them.   
  
Dolorosa stopped a little, watching the new figure warily. She rose gracefully, her skirt rippling around her knees by some unknown breeze. She inclined her head slowly. “I won’t harm you.” Dolorosa frowned at the unfamiliar accent, and she scrutinized the girl more closely, was she from the East?   
  
The woman approached her and she felt a little embarrassed as a small hiss escaped her mouth. Most would be frightened to death to hear a rainbow drinker’s threatening noise like that but this woman was unafraid, her eyes cold and hard, studying her, looking straight through her.   
  
Her red painted lips curled into a thin, cruel smile. “Go, they shall not find you.” She raised one white, slender needle, and walked off back from whence Dolorosa came.   
  
She ran for her life, and ignored the screams as she did so. Inwardly she thanked the mysterious woman.   
  
If only she knew who it was.   
  
\---   
  
They had met again, on the fringes of the desert. Even through the night, the heat was something Dolorosa wasn’t exactly comfortable with, but she had done the best for her child so far and wouldn’t fail him now.    
  
The wind blew sand across the sparkling dunes gently, and Dolorosa sat outside for once, safe that her little boy was sound asleep in the tent, unaffected by the sands. She had done her best to teach her about their society, sneaking into the towns and cities when she could and he was starting to ask dangerous questions, could see the injustice ravaging everyone. They had made connections and friends, and she wondered what would become of him when he grew to adulthood.   
  
Something caught her eye off in the distance, and she craned her head a little to watch the desert, the sands swirling and for a brief moment she swore she saw a flash of red before standing up, on high alert. She could  _ feel _ someone’s presence.   
  
Then, she saw her approach. Out of the desert, the winds blowing her hair and her now long green dress off to one side. The symbol of death proudly displayed on her chest. She gave Dolorosa a little smile. “Hello again.”   
  
Dolorosa didn’t loosen her grip on her weapon, although she did her best to keep her face neutral, she suspected that bringer of Death knew how terrified she was. “What do you want.” She said in a clipped tone.   
  
The other woman tilted her head up a little, scrutinizing the other troll. “Merely to check in.” She said cryptically.    
  
That infuriated Dolorosa more than comforted her, and she inched towards the mouth of the tent, determined not to let this woman soaked with blood anywhere near her child. “Well we are fine.” She said dangerously, fangs baring slightly. “You may leave now.”   
  
Hints of playfulness slipped into the Demoness’s smile, and she put a finger up to her lips. “Until we meet again.” And walked past Dolorosa, and when she blinked, was gone.   
  
Dolorosa’s blood pumper thudded dangerously in her chest, and she moved into the tent to check on her son.   
  
\---   
  
She was so proud of him. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched her son, the Signless his followers had dubbed him, was making sermons and speeches on a regular basis. If it weren’t for his blood, perhaps Orater would have been a more appropriate title.   
  
Sweeping her gaze over the crowd, her heart seized in fear when she saw  _ her _ again. The green struck out harshly against the browns of the dirt and she kept her gaze steady, fixed not on her son, but her. They had locked eyes, deep pools of crimson meeting vibrant jade. Were they inviting to each other, or hostile? Dolorosa found she didn’t have an answer and yet moved over towards the girl anyways, settling next to her.   
  
“Enjoying it?” Dolorosa asked conversationally, as if she weren’t talking to the single most feared woman in all of Alternian history. Her sign was synonymous with Death.    
  
The woman tilted her head to the side a little. “What do you mean?”    
  
Indicating her son’s speech, which was winding down to a close, she shrugged. “The speech?”   
  
She frowned, and for the first time Dolorosa saw the confusion on her face, a subtle reminder that she wasn’t a faceless killer. “I’m still unsure what you mean.”   
  
The Dolorosa’s eyebrows rose a little, looking at the woman curiously. “You know, about the subjugation of the low bloods. You yourself are a member of the lowest class, I see many of your bloodkin out in the crowd tonight.” She nodded her head at all of the other rust bloods mingling in the crowd, talking to one another.    
  
The Demoness tilted her head curiously, watching the crowd as if it were completely alien to her, and perhaps, Dolorosa suspected, it was. “I am not like them.” She decided finally, keeping her hands clasped together, glancing over at Dolorosa. “They fear me.”   
  
“For good reason, you know.” The Dolorosa pointed out gently, giving her a smile. “Forgive me for saying so dear, but your name and symbol aren’t exactly one of peace.”   
  
The Demoness’s lips twitched at the remarks, but her eyes were full of warmth as she regarded Dolorosa. “But you do not fear me.”   
  
That made her pause for a moment, and she regarded the other girl again. With her advanced senses due to being a rainbow drinker, and regards to one’s blood color, she could usually guess with a certain degree of accuracy how old a troll was. But as she gazed into the Demoness’s features, there were no indications of such. She only saw a timeless, beautiful face.   
  
“I suppose I don’t.” She conceded, not taking her eyes off of the other troll. “You said we would meet again, and here we are.” She splayed her hands out a little, watching the others slowly start to settle for a joint pot-luck dinner. “Do you wish to stay and eat? I can assure some anonymity if we go to my tent.”   
  
The younger woman (for she had to be younger than Dolorosa, rust bloods didn’t age very well, surely) gave her a curious look, looking over at the food before slowly shaking her head. “No, not tonight. Perhaps at a later date.”   
  
“There will be later dates?” Dolorosa asked lightly, hopefully, almost.   
  
Now the warmth reached down at the Demoness’s smile, and her eyes seemed to shine in the moonlight with a little touch of mischievousness. “Oh yes. Time is relative, you know. It’s a miracle I have managed to visit you in the right order.”   
  
She turned to leave, leaving Dolorosa to ponder what on Alternia  _ that _ meant.   
  
\----   
  
Her son was  _ dead. _ They had captured him, tortured him, and when he screamed his throat raw they pierced his heart and laughed as they did so. She felt numb, she felt weak, she felt  _ helpless _ as she ran. She ran so far away and didn’t dare look back.   
  
How long had she been running before she collapsed on the ground, sobbing her wretched heart out. What mother outlived her own son? All of their friends and make-shift family they had accumulated over the sweeps were broken and scattered like ashes. She knew in her heart that they could  _ never _ repair what was lost.    
  
It was all for naught in the end.   
  
She had set up a small, single tent. She was a wanted woman but like before if she bided her time, the heat, as Psiioniic was so fond of saying, would die down and she could potentially find somewhere to settle and live a somewhat normal life.   
  
As if her life had ever been normal.   
  
A soft wind rustled the tent and she wheeled around, eyes wild and dangerous until she saw her sitting there, on her knees. She turned, her voice hard and bitter. “Go away.” She murmured. Two slender arms snaked under her own and hugged her shoulders, chin pressed against the blade.    
  
“Alone is a bad place to be in, right now.” A low voice whispered into her ear.    
  
Dolorosa shivered, she knew her companion was right. Being alone with her thoughts recently would prove to be the death of her, and she refused to give the bastards that had murdered her son the satisfaction of knowing she had been so distraught that her own life would be forfeit. She turned, pressing her face against the smaller woman’s neck and heaved a sob.   
  
She cried for what seemed like ages, until her tears were dried by a few well placed thumbs and gentle murmurings into her ear. “Stay with me for the day.” She whispered, and the grip around her tightened in agreement.   
  
They looked at each other for a long moment, before leaning in to kiss.   
  
When Dolorosa awoke the next night, her companion was already gone. She had learned more about her in one day than she ever thought she would. Who the woman behind the persona of Demoness really was. They had even told each other their names.   
  
Her clothes were folded and pressed, and still warm when she slipped them on, and there on the other side was a tray full of foods, a breakfast for her.   
  
She wondered when Damara did all of this, but felt she knew better than to ask.   
  
Time was relative, after all.   
  
\---   
  
She was tired now. So,  _ so _ tired. Her body and mind ravaged almost daily by a sadistic pirate, cursed to life that she no longer wanted. How many battles had been fought and won, wine drunk and food eaten before the Mindfang got a gleam in her eye and Dolorosa had to brace for another day in absolute hell.   
  
Some slaves thought it would be an honor to be considered the Mindfang’s personal pet, and on some level the Dolorosa pitied them. They wouldn’t know the horror of having their mind violated and torn asunder, of being forced to do depraved acts and made to enjoy it. It was a wonder Dolorosa had kept her sanity this whole time.   
  
The sounds of battle were like thunder in her ears, which was rather appropriate considering the storm that's raging on. Lighting spit across the sky as advanced weaponry screamed loudly, tearing holes in the fleets and sending lord knew how many to their watery deaths. Dolorosa envied them on some level.   
  
The door to Mindfang’s private quarters exploded open in a violent shower of wood. Dolorosa shielded herself from the light and when they finally adjusted, she was unsurprised in a way to see her standing there, eyes alight with unholy power.   
  
The Handmaid landed and entered the cabin softly, holding out her hand silently. The Dolorosa rose, walking over and taking her hand. She smiled, and her partner smiled back. Together, they walked out towards the deck of the ship, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the Mindfang, ashen white with fear. She would not dare stop them.   
  
“I’m going to die, soon, aren’t I.” It wasn’t a question. The storm and battle around them seemed to fade out of existence.   
  
_ Yes. _ A voice breathed on the wind. Her eyes were heartbroken, wishing she could save the woman she dearly loved.   
  
Dolorosa moved forward, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. “Do not be sad, my beloved.” She soothed, pressing her lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “It’s something I have been looking forward too for quite some time now. I am ready.”   
  
There was a nod, and the hiss of laser. Burnt flesh stung in the air. She had been shot fatally by the Dualscar on one of the other warring ships.   
  
Gently, she was laid down, hair being sussed back. Damara leaned down and spoke like a ghost in her dying lover’s ear. “I shall watch those who bear your sign, my love.”    
  
And with that, the Dolorosa died, with a peaceful smile on her face.   
  
\---   
  
Kanaya Maryam felt a sense of joy every time she saw her garden now. She had spent the better part of two sweeps with Mother building it and growing it, but soon the fruits of her labor, but metaphorical and literal, were going to pay off in dividends.    
  
The sun was harsh but manageable today. Kanaya smiled a little as she admired the beauty of her home, the colorful sails billowing in the arid desert air, a little oasis in the middle of an endless ocean of sand.   
  
Turning to move back into her home, she paused as something caught her eye. Just for the faintest of moments. She kept her lipstick out, wondering if it was another of those meddlesome zombies that roamed the dunes.   
  
Turning, she saw a lone figure standing far in the distance, completely still. She frowned and squinted at the figure, the sun’s harsh rays shimmering the air slightly. Kanaya could make out the tiniest bit of red, before she blinked, and the figure vanished completely.   
  
“Trick of the light…” She mumbled to herself, shrugging a little and moving back indoors. Perhaps she needed some water.   
  
\---   
  
Porrim’s senses were on edge. She had felt the presence of someone unfamiliar amongst the group for some time now. An outsider that had snuck into their little bubble and had managed to stay hidden amongst the shadows. Watching them.   
  
As she returned home to her hive, she gripped the door handle tightly. Her skin hummed with power and her fangs glinted in her body’s unnatural brightness, sharp green eyes staring daggers at a reflection in the window. “Reveal yourself.” She hissed angrily.   
  
A tall figure stepped out. Her slender body hugged by an eye-gouging green dress, her long hair sweeping near her feet. Her face, slightly angled now, was to Porrim, absolutely gorgeous. She looked remarkably like Damara.   
  
Yet she knew it wasn’t Damara.   
  
“I have heard rumors about you.” Porrim said diplomatically. “It seems even among little Kanaya’s group, they have very little about you.”    
  
The Handmaid nodded once. “I am more of a legend than a fact, by their time.” She confirmed. Her voice showed no trace of the Eastern-Accents that Damara had so thickly laid in her own speech, but the resemblance was scary.   
  
“Why are you here?” Porrim asked curiously, trying to think of any reason for this mysterious and powerful woman to visit them. “I would have thought you would visit Damara.”   
  
The older troll gave a cryptic smile, a fondness directed at Porrim that she hadn’t felt in sweeps. She bristled a little, unsure how to accept this. “Just making good on a promise.” Came the reply.    
  
Porrim’s pierced eyebrows rose a little, and she opened the door to her hive and inclined her head. “Would you like something to drink? I suspect that you have quite the story. And we have nothing but time here.”   
  
A warm smile crossed the woman’s features, and gracefully she rose up the steps. “Time is relative, Porrim.” She teased gently, as if they were words that had been spoken many times in the past. Porrim felt her own smile grow as she stepped in and closed the door as the Handmaid asked one last question.   
  
“Tell me Porrim, what do you know of The Dolorosa?”


End file.
